Aragorn knew Mordor was coming. He was preparing. All the Hobbits, much to their dismay, were being kept inside.

"I could fight," said Fifi. "I could protect us!"

Aragorn shook his head. "I do not doubt your skill. Stay here, where it is safe."

Eowyn had a similar reaction to the Hobbits. She wasn't letting Faramir talk her into hiding. "I can fight. You know I can! I do not fear death. I don't want to be useless!"

Faramir sighed. "I cannot stop you, but I do not wish this either."

The elves were preparing in their own ways. Though they had all lived through the War of the Ring, this seemed more ominous in ways they could not place. Legolas spent much of his free time with his bow. Tauriel teased him for it, because she knew he didn't need the practice. "Since when does Legolas get nerves?" Legolas would laugh, but when she was gone, he would sigh. He had not been as good with a bow as he normally was lately, sometimes even missing the target altogether.

Galadriel, Celeborn, Gandalf, and Elrond would fight. That was certain. "This war is bigger than all of us," Gandalf had said. "I think we all must call upon our power."

Elrond had nodded. He glanced out the window, at the eternally grey sky. "Just keep Arwen safe. I will not find her again just to loose her forever."

()()()()

Mordor prepared in a different kind of way. Orcs, mounted on their wretched horses were lined up at the gates, ready to flood out and kill all in their path. Eldarion watched all this happen from his palace. He was satisfied as he looked at Minas Tirith. It would fall. He would do what not even Sauron could accomplish.

Dawn was chained up in her cell. She was limp and weak like a rag doll. Her cheeks were sunken. Her eyes had lost their glow. She had new scars.

In the distance, she heard the rattle of keys. She weakly lifted her head and saw Eldarion himself standing there, opening the cell. He snapped his fingers, and Dawn's chains broke. "What are you going to do now," she asked, her voice a whisper. "I can't be hurt anymore. I'm already broken."

Eldarion beckoned for her to walk. Dawn took shaky steps out of the cell, but collapsed. Eldarion caught her. "You are not to fight in the battle." Dawn nodded. "Am I in any condition to fight anyways?" Eldarion shook his head. "Follow me."

Dawn limped down the halls after him. When they came to a massive black door, Eldarion opened it, and stepped into the smoke and fog inside.

Dawn looked around. She could hardly see anything through the smoke, but when the smoke parted, she, out of instinct, reached for her sword, then remembered she didn't have one.

A cloaked man walked out of the smoke, and looked at Dawn. "You are the princess, are you not?"

"If you want me to call you a king, forget it." She looked him up and down. "You're looking a bit scraggly. Is planning new methods of torture for me keeping you from your bathwaters? If so, I'd be delighted if you could give me a break." Dawn smirked. Sarcasm was her only weapon.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of their cell today," said the man, his voice velvety.

"You can shut your gob."

"What did you call me in here for, Lord," asked Eldarion.

"Dawn will fight in the battle," he said.

Dawn scoffed. "Dawn will not!"

"Yes, you will," he said. "I command it."

"Who are you to command me around? Some rogue wizard? One of the Eldar? No, you are a small man who concerns himself with small things and takes the time to torture warriors who don't know anything!"

He laughed. "Oh I like your personality. So fiery. Yes, you are beneficial to my plan."

"Go away, coward," she spat. "I hate you."

"Most people cannot even look me in the eyes, yet here you are, firing childish insults at me."

"Kiss an orc. They are the only race that would, and then only the lowliest orc would. With the help of a love potion."

"Eldarion, give her armor. She is to fight against Minas Tirith. You know the plan." He stepped out of the smoke, and Dawn could see him clearly. His eyes were grey, almost black. He had tanned skin and brown, wavy hair. He wore a black cloak. "If you are found helping the armies of Gondor in any way, you will be killed."

Dawn stared into his eyes angrily. "Go back into your fake smoke. I see where Eldarion gets his dramatic flair from."

Eldarion dragged her away. About five minutes later, he took off his cloak and gave it to her. "Run. As far as you can. Get to the Harad, Minas Tirith, Rohan, I don't care. Just go."

"Why?"

Eldarion sighed. "Do I have to have a reason? Go!" There was fear in his voice. Dawn clasped his cloak around her neck. "There is a hidden basket of food in the kitchen. My kitchen, not the filthy one. You'll find it. When you do, get out." Eldarion turned away.

"Wait," Dawn called, but he was gone. "Thank you," she muttered. She ran off weakly in search of the kitchen.

Eldarion was on his black horse. He was galloping out of Mordor, towards the Black Gate. The entire army followed him. Minas Tirith had three hours maximum to prepare.

As the gate opened, Eldarion's heart sank. He saw the city. He could feel the fear of the citizens. But he had to do this. For Arda.

The armies behind him screamed and shouted. They craved war, and wanted nothing else in their lives but blood and death. He wondered if Dawn had escaped. Had his master caught her? Was she reunited with Legolas? Was she safe?

He remembered how weak she was. Would she even survive the journey out of Mordor?

He charged through the gates. "For Dawn," he whispered.